Information as Currency
by Cantique
Summary: The Jedi thought they were only bringing back Anakin from Tatooine. Turns out they forgot to check for stowaways. But when Keeasi finds work as an intelligence agent, she finds herself free of everything but the Jedi. I suck at summaries. Obi-Wan/female OC. Female OC is a prostitute, heads up if you got issues with that. Slow burning. Idk.
1. Chapter 1

_Be kind. I don't really take fanfiction seriously, this is really just me killing time. This is going to be very, very slow burning._

* * *

Keeasi leaned against the cantina wall, dabbing her wrist against her brow to try and blot out at least a little bit of the sweat gathering there. After all this time you'd think she'd be used to the Tatooine heat, but evidently she would never acclimatise, not even after nine years. She glanced over the clientele, disappointed with the day's turnout. Yesterday was a good one. She'd had six clients and only four of them had wanted the full range of her services. One merely wanted affection and the other just wanted to talk. She'd left with a handful of truguts that night, enough for her to stock up on some more food for the week and contribute to her savings, too.

Today, though, the cantina wasn't looking promising. It was hot and everyone was focused on the upcoming pod-race spectacle, which, on the other hand, meant that tomorrow would be a great day for business. But today? She was leaning more and more toward throwing in the towel and going home. At least the small home she shared with three other people was somewhat cooler than the cantina today.

"Did you hear what Shoska saw today?" A high pitched wheeze began from beside her. She shot Nanka a glance. The Mirialan sipped on a drink, her eyes fixed on the small number of customers in the cantina the same way Keeasi's were.

"Shoska sees a lot of things," Keeasi replied. "Including half my regulars behind my back." She paused, giving a sigh and closing her eyes. No point getting mad over _that_ again. "What did Shoska see, then?"

Nanka couldn't help but let a little smile escape. "Outlanders," she began, failing miserably at hiding her excitement. "Humans. Trying to buy parts for their ship from Watto." Keeasi gave a shrug as Nanka continued. "'Ey, don't you go shrugging at me, girl," Nanka laughed. "I haven't even gotten to the good part. So, get this, right? One of them tries to pay for whatever it is they need with _Republic Credits._ "

Keeasi gave a snort. No one on Tatooine accepted credits here. They were absolutely worthless. "That sounds like an Outlander, alright. How'd that go down with Watto?"

"How do you _think_ it went? They walked out of there with nothing." Nanka paused. "You know, those Outlanders… don't know where they're going, but I bet it's not the Outer Rim." Keeasi looked to her, frowning, unsure where she was going with this. "You've got a lot of peggats and truguts saved up. Given their lack of currency, I bet they'd be grateful if you made a donation. Grateful enough to say… take you with them."

Her eyes thinned at Nanka finished. Keeasi wasn't stupid. You couldn't be in their business. She knew exactly why Nanka was suggesting this: next to Keeasi, Nanka was the most humanoid working girl in the Cantina that wasn't owned by a Hutt. If Keeasi left, Nanka would most likely inherit her regulars - regulars who tended to avoid slaves for whatever reasons. Keeasi couldn't really fault her on it, though. She hadn't exactly made her aspirations to get off Tatooine a secret, after all. In fact, she often made a point of bringing it up, just so everyone knew. Just so there was a possibility that someone might feel sorry for her and take her with them.

It had never happened, though. Passage to somewhere like Coruscant was expensive, which she understood. Getting passage to anywhere in the Federation from a place like Tatooine was a risk. They had to feed you, give you space to sleep - and while she was handy with a blaster and a great negotiator, there wasn't a lot she was qualified to do on a ship to work her way there. Even her current trade was obsolete; plenty of ports throughout the Galaxy with plenty of girls to see, and she was hardly anything to write home about as far as working girls went. In fact, her being a working girl came as more of a risk. Most of the ships heading into the Republic from Tatooine were smuggling something illegal, and her line of work put her at risk of being flagged as a slave at any processing ports, which would put the whole ship in jeopardy. Not that she thought they'd find out. She could make up a story, a lie to get her through security checks… but getting smugglers and traders to believe that had been a whole other battle.

The two shared a silence for a few minutes, Keeasi weighing this up in her mind. "Right," she finally exhaled, pushing herself off the wall, "I'm off for the rest of the day. Too hot to stand around and watch people not hire me." She gave Nanka a nod. "Thanks for the tip."

"Eh, good luck," Nanka laughed, shaking her head. "You'll need it."

Keeasi gave a quick nod of acknowledgement to the barman as she passed him on her way out to let him know she was gone for the day, but it wasn't until she was outside and well away from Nanka's gaze and judgement that she picked up the pace of her steps. Watto's. She had to get to Watto's and ask where the Outlanders went. As much as she hated to admit it, Nanka was right. She had a healthy amount saved and it might have been enough to sway someone who had absolutely no tradeable currency, especially someone who wasn't local and didn't know she was a working girl.

By the time Keeasi arrived at Watto's, she'd broken into a sprint. Sure enough, the Toydarian floated about behind the counter, cleaning out… something, she didn't know what it was, but it looked technical. He smiled at first, the same, large, slimey one she saw on him in the cantina when bargaining with a Hutt or someone important - but as soon as she figured out who she was, the smile vanished, his expression dropping and his attention returning to whatever he was cleaning out. "Whadda' you want, eh?" He asked her. "If you here about tha' blaster, no refunds. It was junk anyway."

A little without breathe from the sprint, she shook her head in the doorway. "Someone said you dealt with some Outlanders," she paused, trying to regain her composure. "Any idea where they went? They're still here, right?"

Watto looked up at her, an eyebrow raised in suspicion. "...Yeh, but they ain't got any money for you, girl. Only credits." He clicked his tongue. "Pah!"

"That's fine!" she insisted. "I just need to speak to them. Please, Watto?" She paused, pursing her lips. "You still owe me four golden peggats, right? After that bet on that last race?" She asked. "Tell me where they went and I'll call it even."

Watto watched her for a moment, his eyes thinning. Watto was a regular in the cantina and was notorious for making bets bigger than his wallet. He'd bet her four golden nuggets that his slave boy would come last, a bet Keeasi had been happy to put money on. She could afford it, Watto could barely, and she quite liked his boy. Anakin, his name was. Always polite to her when she dropped by to sell scrap from clients who'd accidentally left things like blasters in her room. Well, Keeasi had won that bet on a technicality - Anakin didn't finish the race at all, which meant he was a scratch, _not_ last place. While Watto had argued it with her, he hadn't been willing to argue it with any of the Hutts.

"Alright, _fine!_ " He finally relented, dropping the thing in his hands onto the counter with a clank. "But as soon as you done talkin' to em', you go tell them Hutts we clear!" he ordered, pointing his finger at her. Once she nodded in agreement, he tilted his head to the back room. "Boy!" He called, followed by the sound of a light clank from the room. "Ey, _boy!_ Come 'ere, eh?"

Within moments, Anakin appeared from the back room, some kind of grease on his hands. "Yeah?" he asked, wiping his hands on his trousers, careless to the mess they'd left. He smiled when he realised she was standing there. "Oh, hi, Keekee!" He said, using her working name. Everyone did, and even though Anakin was too young to know exactly what she did for a living, he was no exception. Come to think of it, she wasn't even sure anyone knew her real name anymore. Not since she started in the Cantina, anyway.

Watto pointed to her dismissively. "You take this one to see your friends, eh? She got somethin' important for 'em."

Anakin looked from Watto to Keeasi, confusion on his face, but eventually gave a shrug. "Sure." Without another moment's hesitation, he passed her, gesturing for her to follow. "Come on, they're probably still at my place!" Keeasi picked up the pace to keep up with the boy, who had a particular energy to his steps today as they headed through the market square. "So why do you need to see them?" He asked over his shoulder as he lead her through the small market crowd.

"Just have something to ask them, that's all," she explained, pausing for a moment as she side-stepped to avoid someone. "Are they friendly?"

"Oh yeah!" Anakin replied with a smile. "They're really nice. Mr Qui-Gonn even got Watto to let me race again tomorrow!" Anakin stopped suddenly as they came to one of the residential areas, taking her by surprise. "There he is!" he announced, pointing to a man across the clearing. "Mr Qui-Gonn!" The man turned, and something about his presence instantly made Keeasi uneasy. He was tall, yes, but she'd met tall men before. No, it was something about how he stood - unmoving, grounded, like a statue. "Mr Qui-Gonn!" Anakin called again, running to the man, leaving Keeasi to slowly approach the two on her own to close the gap. "Watto sent me to find you." He turned to her as she neared, gesturing to her. "This is Keekee. She's a dancer at the cantina. Watto says she has something important for you."

Qui-Gonn was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on her. It was something she was used to, in a way, how he looked at her, sized her up. She'd come straight from work, and while telling a young boy she was a dancer may have worked, there was no way this Outlander would be fooled - not with the way she was dressed. "Does she, now?" He knew exactly what she was.

"It's not… I'm not here for my regular business," she spoke, urgency behind her words, anything to stop him from turning her back on her like so many did. "Please, just hear me out."

His gaze didn't move from hers, but after a few moments he gave a solemn nod. "Anakin," he said, looking to the boy, "why don't you head inside? Your droid has some things to talk to you about before you race tomorrow."

Anakin glanced between the two, but the expression on the older man's face was enough persuasion for him to take his suggestion without real question. "See ya later, Keekee," he sighed before dutifully heading inside. Not a word was spoken until the door was closed behind him.

"Let me assure you that you're wasting your time if you're trying to-"

"I told you," she spoke, interrupting him, "I'm not here for my regular business." She paused, taking a breath. "Someone told me that you only have Republic Credits and that you're in need of ship parts."

Qui-Gonn gave a nod. "I see word travels fast."

"Like you wouldn't believe," she replied with a smile, trying to be friendly. Somehow, though, she doubted her charm wasn't going to win him over on its own. "Anyway, I know it won't cover all of it, but I have 4,600 golden peggats and I can probably help you source more. All I ask is that you take me with you." Qui-Gonn smiled a little, crossing his arms and giving a nod as she continued. "I don't care where it is you're going or why, I just want to get away from the Outer Rim. And before you ask," she added, her palm raised, "I can work. I'm handy with a blaster and I am incredibly good at talking my way out of things. I'll be useful."

To her disappointment, he shook his head. "A generous offer, indeed. Unfortunately, I've already come to another arrangement, and it's not in my interests to smuggle slaves. I'm sorry, but I can't afford to risk angering your owner."

"Owner?" She repeated, her voice absolutely incredulous. "I am _not_ a slave and I do _not_ have an owner." She tensed her jaw. "I happen to be what I am of my own choice."

He was silent for a moment, reading her reaction, the way he studied her giving her second thoughts on what kind of person he was. "Of course," he finally relented after a moment. "Forgive me, in my part of the galaxy, that's usually the case. Regardless, however, I already have a full crew as it is." She must have betrayed herself to him even though she'd done her best to hide her disappointment, because his expression softened suddenly. "I assure you, if it were possible, I'd consider your offer. The best I can do is offer you some Republic Credits. Perhaps you can trade them with some smugglers." He paused, catching her gaze with his. "I'm sorry, I really am."

In any other case, Keeasi probably would have argued the point, or even offered him free services to try and sweeten the deal… but something about the way he spoke told her that he was being genuine. That he really _was_ sorry. "That's uh, fine," she finally replied, trying to hide her disappointment. "I understand, just thought it would be worth asking." She gave him a smile, although she knew fully well that he could see in her eyes it was only one out of politeness. "Thank you for your time, and wish Anakin luck for me."

With that, she turned on her heel and made her way back to the Cantina. For a just a second, she thought she'd found a way.

* * *

"You shoulda' seen it," Coshto remarked as Keeasi lay against his chest, trying to kill time before his hour with her was over. "I've never seen a race like it, that Skywalker boy just… it was incredible." He laughed, shaking his head. "You shoulda' put some money on him like I did. You'd be one rich woman."

Coshto gently began to rise, allowing Keeasi to separate from him to her relief. "Leaving so soon?" She asked, a false expression of disappointment on her face. She actually couldn't stand Coshto - he was cocky and all hands and assumed he was doing her a favor by hiring her. But, he was a client, one who fell for it hook line and sinker when she pretended he was different to the rest. She had to keep up appearances.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and reached for his pants. "Sorry, love," he explained, "gotta finish that shipment up before those Outlanders leave."

Keeasi paused, an eyebrow raised, "Outlanders?" She asked. "The ones who own the pod he raced in?"

"Yeah," he replied, reaching for his shirt and pulling it over his head. "They made a big supply order for their trip. Urgent, too. Don't think they wanna stick around long."

She watched him get dressed, chewing on her lip, her mind racing with the possibility of… "Coshto," she mewled, moving across the bed to sit behind him and snaking her arms over his shoulders in an embrace, resting her head beside his, "why don't we ever spend any time together?"

Coshto raised an eyebrow. "We spend plenty of time together," he assured her. "I come see you at least once a week."

"No," she replied with a pout, "I mean outside of work. I thought I was special."

She tried to not hold her breath in anticipation, but when Coshto completely froze, she knew she had him. "Y-you _are_ special, Keekee," he said, turning his head to face her, his expression so soft that she could describe it as 'melty.' "I had no idea you felt like _that_ , though."

She gave a hurt look. "I tell you all the time that you're special to me! I thought you knew you didn't have to pay for my time." She hoped this worked, because if it didn't she was out of a client. "I was starting to think you didn't care."

Gently, he shifted out of her embrace, turning to face her entirely, cupping her face with his hand. "Of course I care, Keekee. You're _all_ I care about."

She smiled, looking downwards, raising her hand to meet his. "Let me walk you to your shipment?" She asked. "Any time spent with you is heaven to me."


	2. Chapter 2

Part of Keeasi felt guilty for doing this to Coshto, but she was quick to remind herself both how awful he was in general and what was at stake here. If she pulled this off, she was more than willing to forgive herself. They said their goodbyes once they arrived at the loading dock with promises of meeting again that night, no charge, promises that she had zero intention to keep as she snuck behind a pallet of boxes and hid. From between a gap, she watched as they loaded the cargo boxes with supplies. Most of the large crates were filled to the brim, but _one_ of them, filled with various ration packs, had _just_ enough room.

She waited about an hour and a half before the workers went inside the trade building once they finished packing. Once the coast was clear, she bolted for the half filled crate, hoping no one spotted her as she lifted the lid and jumped inside it, closing the lid above her. In total darkness now, she reached into her dress, removing her blaster from an inside pocket and holding it to her chest and listening to the muffled voices outside. The crate soon began to rock and shift as it was moved, and all Keeasi could do was sit in silence and wait in the dark.

She'd waited in the crate for two hours after takeoff before she'd heard anything in the cargo bay other than engine noises, and all though she wanted to celebrate the feat that was getting off Tattooine at all, the mere sound of footsteps terrified her too much to move. She tried to comfort herself - surely it was only someone retrieving stock.

It was at that exact moment that Keeasi realised she was sitting _on_ said stock. And as though someone had waited for her to realise that, the lid of the crate opened. As Qui-Gonn and 5 other men stared down at her, most of them aiming blasters at her, all she could do was try and smile.

* * *

"What exactly made you think this was a good idea?" Qui-Gonn asked, pacing back and forth in front of her, the cargo hold empty spare for Qui-Gonn and the younger man with him now that they'd worked out she wasn't a threat. The young man with Qui-Gonn wore the same manner of clothes, but he remained stationary, seeming more of an observer than anything.

She blinked when she realised that Qui-Gonn was _not_ speaking rhetorically. He actually wanted an answer. "I… look, if I'm to be honest, this was probably a bad idea in hindsight. _But,_ " she raised her eyebrows "I did make it on the ship, so technically speaking it wasn't really the _worst_ idea."

"No," he agreed bluntly, "just incredibly irresponsible. Not to mention dangerous," he continued. "There are some _very_ important people on this ship and you're lucky that someone didn't shoot you on sight."

"I'm sorry," she blurted, tensing her jaw, "I really am. I don't know what else to say to you." A silence followed, and while she wouldn't exactly say Qui-Gonn was angry, he certainly seemed… well, he wasn't pleased right now. Maybe stressed was the correct word. She decided against saying anything else, not wanting to get herself in more trouble.

"Will we be dropping her at the next spaceport, Master?" asked the younger man. Master. That was… she frowned. Surely Qui-Gonn couldn't be a slaver, could he? Her stomach tensed. What if he had been this whole time? What if she'd walked right into slavery? But that was when she noticed something about the younger of the two. Something hanging off his belt.

Qui-Gonn shook his head. "No, we're on a direct course and we can't waste any more fuel or supplies. Time is not on our side, either." He came to a stop, finally, watching her carefully. "Tell me, Obi-Wan," he began looking back to the younger man, "do you sense anything worrying in her?"

There was another moment of silence, although Keeasi suspected it was more tense for her than it was for them. "I sense fear," Obi-Wan finally replied, "but no anger, no malice."

"Oh…" Keeasi began, her eyes widening, raising her palms to them, "oh no. You two… you're Jedi?" She didn't wait for a response. She didn't need it. Instead, she gave a heavy sigh. "Of course you are."

"We will keep her in the Cargo hold," Qui-Gonn continued as though she'd said nothing. "We'll decide a further course of action when we arrive on Coruscant."

* * *

She honestly would have lost track of time in the cargo hold if not for the guard changing every three hours. Otherwise, all there was to do was sleep in the cot they'd set up - which she didn't really mind, although she did feel a little cold. She was so tired, though, that she slept regardless.

Eventually, though, the guards changed again and she awoke once more, only instead of a Trooper, the guard was taken up by the younger of the two Jedi. He spoke a few quiet words to the guard before him, she couldn't make out what as she sat up in her bed, before the Trooper walked off, leaving the two alone. He waited a moment, facing the door like the rest, until eventually he seemed to relax slightly. "You're awake, then," he announced, finally turning around. He began to approach her, reaching under his arm before offering a bundle of fabric to her. "I brought you some clothes."

Keeasi hesitated for a moment before taking the bundle from him. "Thank you," she said, unfolding it to take a look. A tunic and a pair of trousers, both made of a woolen material. "Suppose you can't have someone on a Jedi ship dressed like… well, a working girl."

"Actually," he said, crossing his arms and giving her the smallest of smiles, "I thought you might be cold. Tatooine is a warm planet and space can be the opposite."

"...Yeah," she agreed, a little surprised he cared about that above anything else. "You're not wrong." She smiled, pulling the tunic over her head, too cold to care about the dress that she still wore underneath it. "Is your boss still mad at me?"

"Master Qui-Gonn wasn't angry with you," he began, watching as she pulled on the trousers underneath the fabric of her dress, keeping her modesty albeit looking a little awkward. "He was genuinely concerned for your wellbeing. Perhaps frustrated, too. He told me about your encounter on Tatooine."

She gave a half-hearted laugh, shaking her head. "If I'd known he was a Jedi, I would have just stayed in the cantina."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at this, taking a crate from nearby and pulling it closer to the two of them. "Why is that?" he asked, taking a seat on it. "Many people would think that a benefit. Compassion is central to the Jedi way, if anything, my Master would have understood your plight more than anything."

"Plight?" She repeated. "Not this again. I'm not a victim, I work of my own cho-"

"I did not mean to imply that," he interrupted. "I was referring to your problems securing passage off Tatooine. Your life as a courtesan isn't of any concern."

Suddenly, she laughed. "Courtesan? That's... " she paused, smiling as though he'd told her a joke. "That's a nice way of putting it, to say the least."

He returned her smile, and for the first time since she'd been onboard the ship, she felt calm. Relieved, even. "Your name is Keekee, then?" He asked. "My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi… I have a feeling you may have worked that out, though." He glanced downwards for a moment before returning his attention to her. "For what it's worth, I don't think you'll be arrested on Coruscant."

She watched him carefully, trying to get a read on him. He was different to his Master, although it was probably more to do with his youth than anything. But as she continued watching, she came to realise what the main difference was - he didn't give her the same look, not once. The one that was usually laced with pity or disdain when they figured out what she was. Even Qui-Gonn, for all his Jedi practices, had given her the look, albeit a softer and well hidden version. But Obi-Wan hadn't at all. Sure, he'd passed judgement on her at first, but it wasn't the same. It was more to do with the fact she'd snuck onto their ship in the cargo hold than anything else. "Keeasi," she finally said. "My real name is Keeasi."

"Keeasi," he repeated to himself, still smiling, something about how he said it bringing a little heat to her face. He cleared his throat and spoke again. "My Master says that you're now welcome to leave the cargo hold to bathe and eat, but I'm to supervise you."

"You're to supervise me while I bathe?" She laughed, unable to help herself. The young Jedi began to stammer immediately and she could have sworn she'd seen him blush just a little. "Relax," he assured him. "I'm just teasing you. It'll be nice to stretch my legs."

* * *

Carefully sitting at the table of the dining area, she eyed Anakin carefully as he spoke to one of the handmaidens. Obi-Wan had informed her earlier that the Queen of Naboo was onboard, which was why she was only permitted to leave the cargo hold once almost everyone else had gone to sleep. Part of her was grateful, really. The less people to explain herself to, the better. She watched them chat from the corner of her eye, trying not to eavesdrop, but failing miserably at it. It was sweet how the boy spoke to the handmaiden, but she could do no more than smile to herself as she dug into her meal.

Eventually, Obi-Wan sat across from her, glancing to the boy and the handmaiden as their conversation wrapped up and smiling to her. At least they were on the same page in regards to eavesdropping. The handmaiden came to join them at the table, wishing Anakin a goodnight as he eventually made his way to a room with a bed, blanket still draped over him. The handmaiden spoke once he was out of earshot. "He misses his mother already," she explained, frowning, before finally turning her attention to Keeasi. "I'm sorry, I don't think that we've met."

She glanced to Obi-Wan, waiting for a nod of permission from him before she spoke. "Keeasi," she replied, nodding her head. "I uh… I'm the little surprise they found in the cargo hold."

The handmaiden chuckled to herself, glancing between the two. "Padme. From all the chaos you caused, I'd expected you to be a little more threatening," she laughed, watching as Keeasi dug into her meal as though she hadn't eaten in days. Which she _had,_ but nothing as robust as _this._ There was meat in here!

"She insists she's good with a blaster," Obi-Wan said, smirking and causing Keeasi to stop shoving food in her mouth for a moment. Was he making fun of her? She felt her face begin to flush again. Surely it was the heat from the showers, she told herself, reminded of her wet dark hair and clean face. She lowered her head, staring into her food, trying to hide the redness. Before she'd been wearing the makeup of the trade - pale foundation, the purple stripes of paint across her cheekbones and running vertically down her chin. She almost felt naked without it, really.

"I'm plenty good with a blaster," she insisted, although she spoke into her food, really. "Probably a better shot than _you._ "

Obi-Wan crossed his arms and leaned back. "I don't doubt that at all."

Padme looked between the two, still smiling, almost as if she were excited to watch them make fun of eachother. "So, what will you do when we arrive on Coruscant?" She asked. "It was a big risk to get on the ship, I'm sure you have something important."

Keeasi shrugged, using her fork to stir her food. "I haven't actually thought about it that much," she conceded, "but if I don't get arrested," she paused to shoot Obi-Wan a glance before returning her gaze to Padme, "I suppose I'll find myself a job."

"What exactly do you do?" Padme asked, her curiosity surprisingly endearing. "Are you a smuggler?"

"No," Keeasi laughed. "I'm a… uh…" Keeasi trailed off, debating telling her a lie but not wanting to do so in front of Obi-Wan, who she could tell was judging her. "Well, I've been referred to as a Courtesan."

The handmaiden's response was nothing new to Keeasi - she opened her mouth to laugh as though it were a joke, but stopped herself once she realised neither of them were laughing. Obi-Wan gave the girl a solemn nod to confirm it was the truth, and she stammered a little. "I… oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… so are you a slave?"

"Again with-" Keeasi stopped herself. There was no point having this arguement with a handmaiden of all people. She'd probably never met a working girl in her life, the idea of doing it willingly was probably inconceivable for her. She exhaled, closing her eyes. "No. I'm not a slave. I chose this life for myself."

"Why?" she asked.

Keeasi flickered her eyes to Obi-Wan, unsure if this was a conversation to be had, but he seemed to be listening intently as well. As though he legitimately _did_ want to understand her. Like he was trying to learn something. "Well, when I arrived on Tatooine I worked as a thief. My father was unwell and I needed the money quickly. He passed on but… well, I still had to feed myself. When I came of age, though, I realised I was never going to make enough to get off Tatooine that way… so I went to the cantina and took up what paid best. I've never looked back."

Padme gave a nod, leaning forward, hanging off her every word. "I thought only slaves had to do that."

"I didn't _have_ to do anything," she corrected, trying to keep in mind that she really didn't know any better. "As good as I am with a blaster, I'm not a big fan of being shot at for a living. It was good money, fast, and I was in charge of myself."

"But isn't that meant for love?" Padme asked.

With that question, the room fell silent, the air weighted. Honestly, Keeasi didn't really know how to respond to that. "Maybe," Keeasi finally replied with a shrug. "There isn't really room in my life for that, though. Kind of gave up on that idea when I took up the trade. So, to answer your question: I don't know."

"No room for love?" Padme repeated. "Is that really a life worth living?"

"You're a philosophical one, aren't you?" Keeasi laughed, finally straightening herself up from being hunched over her meal. "Plenty of people can live a life without love." She raised an eyebrow at Obi-Wan. "Like the Jedi, don't they have a rule about that?"

Seeming somewhat surprised to be dragged into this, Obi-Wan shifted in his seat. "It's part of our code, yes," he confirmed.

"Then what _do_ you live for?" Padme asked.

Keeasi had to think about that one. Until now, her whole life had been about getting off that planet, about getting to somewhere in the Republic. Somewhere better. "I don't know, really. Things changed when I got off Tatooine."

* * *

She waited in the cargo hold when they arrived, as she was instructed. Couldn't have her getting off the ship at the same time as everyone else, god forbid she should enter the Queen's sights. As agitated as she was, however, she found herself shrinking in anticipation when the Jedi finally returned.

Qui-Gonn eyed her carefully before crossing his arms and giving a nod. "You're free to go," he announced, causing her to blink in shock.

"...Really?" She asked, looking between the two. "Just like that? No jail? No deportation?"

"I can arrange it if you'd like," Qui-Gonn replied.

Smiling and laughing nervously, she shook her head. "Nope, it's uh, all good." Keeasi rose from her makeshift bed, giving a slight nod to the Jedi master. "Thank you. Really. This is kind of you."

He exhaled tilting his head to Obi-Wan. "Obi-Wan will get you through customs. Where you go from there is up to you." Although he looked finished, he frowned, speaking again. "Please, make the most of your new start."

"You have my word," she replied, trying to hide how touched she was, probably in the same way she suspected he was trying to hide whatever it was _he_ was feeling. Probably pity, if she had to guess. "Thank you for your kindness, Master Qui-Gonn." She nodded to Obi-Wan, and like that, he was gone.

"I can't believe you're letting me go," she remarked as she exited the ship with the younger Jedi, whom she'd grown much more comfortable with.

"I told you that you'd be fine," Obi-Wan replied, leading her through the spaceport, "my Master is a kind man. He knew you weren't a threat." There was quiet between them for a moment as he led her through a gate, the attendant thinking nothing of them passing with no paperwork, probably because he knew Obi-Wan as a Jedi. "What will you do now?" He asked.

Keeasi shrugged, weaving out of the way of oncoming people, trying to not be distracted by the sheer size of the place. There was a time to take it all in, but it wasn't just yet. "I'm not sure," she responded, her voice rising a little to match the noise surrounding them. "Find a job, I suppose."

Eventually, they came to a stop by the entrance to the spaceport, Obi-Wan turning to face her. "The Senate Guard is often taking new recruits," he offered, "if you're as good with a blaster as you say you are, you'd do well there. Speaking of which," Obi-Wan paused and reached into his robe, eventually retrieving the blaster that they'd confiscated from her in the cargo hold. "I believe this belongs to you. Hopefully you won't need it," he said as he handed it to her, "but it's better to be safe than sorry."

The blaster in her hands, Keeasi looked up to Obi-Wan, an eyebrow raised. "Why are you doing this?" She asked.

"Doing what?"

"Making sure I'm okay, giving me advice… being so kind." She pursed her lips for a moment. "I can't offer you anything."

Obi-Wan nodded in silence for a moment, a pensive look on his face before he suddenly gave her that smile from before, the one that made her face feel flushed, like she was a sixteen year old idiot again. "I just have a good feeling about you." He reached out, bringing his hand to her shoulder. "Be well."

With that, Obi-Wan was gone, and Keeasi was alone again. Just how she liked it.

* * *

 _Next chapter is when stuff actually like, happens. Promise._


	3. Chapter 3

"I told you," Keeasi groaned, rolling her eyes at the drunk party-goer of the Outlander bar, "I take Republic credits _only_." She watched him carefully as he stumbled about before her, crinkling her nose at the display. She didn't have time for this tonight. "Get lost."

The idiot propositioning her stood there with his mouth open, as though she'd slapped him in the face. "But," he stammered, "four death sticks are-"

"Don't care," Keeasi snapped, surveying the club over the top of his head. "They're useless to me. Come back with credits, then we'll talk."

He scampered away after that, his antenni sagging low, muttering something about humans. She didn't mind, though. His name was Rak, and he was a consistent pest to her. Even the owners of the club hated him, but somehow he'd managed to swing access to good death sticks, and they kept the rich customers coming in, so he was permitted to hang around like a bad smell.

It had been ten years since she had left Tattoine, and while lots had changed, her work was the same in some places. She called herself a Courtesan now, but she was still sleeping with the same kinds of people, even if they were a little richer. There were added duties to her work now, though, mostly information collecting and gathering. She'd worked out not long after arriving on Coruscant that information turned nearly as much as a profit as her usual line of work did, and often they went hand in hand. Clients would tell her things and people would pay her to leak that information to them - something that had opened a lot of doors for her.

She watched as Rak scurred over to the bar, having spotted someone new in the busy club. The figure at the bar was wearing a familiar set of robes, and she gave an exhale. It was a Jedi, and Rak was probably about to get himself arrested or cut in half, and as much as she disliked Rak, she knew that'd be the end of the little idiot.

By the time she was in earshot, she could already hear his nasally voice. "I don't wanna sell you death sticks." She stopped herself. Weird. The Jedi sad something else, waving his hand, and Rak spoke once more. "I want to go home and rethink my life." She continued her approach, concerned now that the Jedi had threatened him. Yes, she didn't like Rak, but no one threatened him except her and the others who worked in the club.

"Okay, Rak," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder, "time to get out of -" without another word, Rak turned and left the two at the bar. "Look," she sighed, watching the little man leave, "Rak is annoying and all but I hope you were nice to him. We have rules."

"I assure you," the Jedi said, his voice causing her to freeze, "I'm not here to cause any trouble with the clientele."

Keeasi turned and confirmed her suspicions, her jaw almost dropping. "Obi-Wan?" She asked, her eyes wide.

"Keeasi?" He asked, an eyebrow raised as she immediately took the seat beside him.

She frowned, looking around, lowering her voice. "It's Keekee while I'm working," she corrected him. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same question of you," he replied, looking her up and down, more to assert that she was in the same line of work than to judge her on it. "I thought you were joining the guard."

"You first."

His voice lowered to match hers, his eyes darting around to watch those in the bar. "Jedi business. Looking for someone. You?"

Keeasi hesitated for a moment, pursing her lips. She was unsure if she should tell him, but she knew better than that. He was a Jedi. If he really wanted to know, he'd find out himself. "I did join the guard," she whispered, "they've got me here information collecting."

"Ah, so you've moved up to information trading, then?" He asked, waiting for her to nod. "Still good with that blaster?"

"Best in my training squad," she bragged.

Obi-Wan gave a nod. "Good," he replied, "you might need it in a second."

Before Keeasi could question what he meant, Obi-Wan rose from his seat, his hand moving to the lightsabre on his hip. Within seconds it was activated. There was a scream and a women suddenly lay against one of the displays, crying in pain as the guests around them gasped in horror. "Jedi business," announced someone to the bystanders as he him pick the woman up. Another person in Jedi robes. "Go back to your drinks"

Like that, Obi-Wan was gone.

* * *

Keeasi sat in her private booth, curtains drawn, not in the mood to deal with the rest of the club. If someone wanted her services, security or the barman would send them her way. She couldn't stop thinking about how easily Obi-Wan had cut that woman down, as though she were nothing. She'd seen violence before, sure. She was from Tatooine, after all. But something about it was weighing on her mind. Perhaps to do with the fact it had been Obi-Wan.

"Hey, Keekee," a gruff voice from behind the curtain spoke. One of the security guys. "Got a guy here who wants to talk to 'ya."

She grounded herself again, shifting in her seat and opening her purse to find her cigarettes. "Send him through." The curtain parted for a moment, closing behind her guest. Keeasi raised an eyebrow when she realised who it was, although she tried her best to keep her composure. She wasn't sure _why_ he was here yet. "Well, this is a pleasant surprise." She gave a playful smirk as he sat down, lighting her cigarette. "I'm told it's _Master_ Kenobi, now?"

He gave a chuckle, nodding. "Officially, yes."

"Well," she gave him a dutiful nod, taking a drag on her cigarette, "how can I be of help, Master Kenobi? I think I can assume you're not here for my advertised services." She paused. "...Sorry, I was trying to be charming and it came out… never mind."

"Two things," he explained, crossing his arms, "the first is to check up on you."

Keeasi laughed at this, mostly in disbelief. "Check up on me?" She asked. "Wasn't aware the Jedi made social calls." Keeasi watched him carefully, trying to figure him out a little. The last ten years were… well, it was ten years. She wasn't eighteen anymore, and he was certainly different, too. His hair had grown, and the braid it had taken all of her self control to not joke about openly had vanished. He seemed much more serious now, a little like Qui-Gonn was when they'd met. And he had a beard. She like the beard. She'd never admit it to him, though. He was handsome, sure, but he was a Jedi, and all but a lost cause in that regard. "How's Anakin?" She asked.

"Anakin is doing well in his training," he replied, although she could almost feel something else to the sentence, something unsaid. "I took him as my Padawan. He was here, actually. During the… incident."

" _That_ was Anakin?" She asked in disbelief. "I didn't even recognise him!"

He smiled, "it _has_ been ten years. Children tend to do that." He paused, watching as she took another drag. "Tell me about the guard. How did you end up an information agent?"

Keeasi gave a nod, relaxing her shoulders a little, settling into the conversation. "Did my basic training and basic service like everyone else. Then, one day, there was an issue with one of the Pleasure Houses. You know, spat between business owners, only _one_ of them was a Senator. They needed a female recruit to go in and gather intelligence, find the ledgers, things like that." She smiled fondly, as if she was proud of it. "I had the experience in the business and I was new enough to the Guard that no one would recognise me, given that I'd been under a helmet for so long."

"A shame, indeed."

She raised an eyebrow, but continued, ignoring what she assumed was a joke at her expense. "It went well. So well that they promoted me, and eventually I got a cushy job gathering information from here. I also do other things, carry private messages, tip off security forces and politicians, lay seeds of doubt in the ranks of gang membership, you know. Agent stuff."

"Which brings me to the second reason I'm here," he began, reaching into his cloak and placing something on the table with a light clink. She frowned, eyeing it from where she sat. Small and metal. "I need to learn where this originated."

Keeasi reached out and took the small object between her fingers, inspecting it in the light. "What's this from?"

"A poison dart," he replied. Keeasi dropped it on the table immediately, causing the Jedi to laugh. "It won't hurt you. The venom is long gone."

Frowning, she took another drag of her cigarette. "Nice to see that my fear is so funny to you. You can't be too careful." She pursed her lips. She knew where he could get an answer, but they wouldn't be too happy that she'd brought them a Jedi. And on top of that, he didn't know she was part of the guard, so she'd have to make up a cover story. Part of her was telling her to ask for payment for all the effort. But something… something else pushed that aside. "I might know someone who can help you," she finally admitted, giving a shrug, trying to remain casual and aloof despite the weird feeling in her gut about this situation. The Jedi were on their side, she knew that, but you didn't usually work with a Jedi unless there was a _lot_ of trouble. "I can take you to meet him, but…"

"But you want payment," he completed.

"No." With a shake of her head, Keeasi stubbed out the remaining butt of her cigarette, immediately reaching for a fresh one, the unease getting to her. "No payment."

He frowned. "Are you sure? I'm entirely able to provide a reward for your help."

Keeasi shook her head again, looking downwards at her hands, watching the smoke from her cigarette dissipate into the air. "When I was eighteen I did something very stupid and dangerous, and a young Jedi brought me warm clothes and showed me kindness even though I didn't deserve it." She smiled at the memory of it. "This is the least I can do to repay you. No payment. I insist."

Obi-Wan hesitated, perhaps somewhat suspicious of her. She couldn't blame him if he had been. After all, it's how she felt of him at first. "That's very generous of you," he finally said, "but it worries me that you still feel you didn't deserve kindness." She blinked as he said this, struck by it. "Mistakes can be made, but there is always light." He chuckled at this. "Although I wouldn't call your escapade onto the ship 'darkness.'"

She gave a nervous laugh, and tried to pretend she was feeling anything but what she was. That heat in her face, the same she'd felt ten years ago exchanging banter with him. "My main concern," she said, trying to get the conversation back to business, "is that my contact won't exactly want to talk to a Jedi and it would blow my cover. He doesn't know I'm with the guard."

"You say that as if I plan on announcing it to him."

Keeasi's eyes flickered over him, an eyebrow raised, before giving a long exhale. "I suppose if you keep that cloak closed and don't go pointing that lightsabre at anyone, we can get away with it." She paused, grabbing his gaze, her tone suddenly turning to the serious. "I mean it, though. If he figures out you're a Jedi, I'm going to get shot."

Obi-Wan gave a nod. "Of course, I completely understand. I, uh, won't go 'pointing' at anyone." He smiled, watching as she rolled her eyes. "You don't wear that paint anymore," he observed.

"Don't really have to," she replied with a shrug. "Not part of the culture here. Seemed to be a bit of a Tatooine specific thing." She took a long drag of her cigarette, her eyes closed, planning out her movements in her head. Today would be the best day, they could realistically head there right now. "How urgent is this?" She asked.

Instead of a response, however, he glanced at her cigarette and it suddenly went out, completely extinguished somehow, as though someone had squeezed the lit end between their fingers. Confused, Keeasi took the cigarette from between her lips, inspecting the now extinguished end. "You shouldn't smoke those," he suddenly said, a smug smile on his face as she looked up from it. "Bad for you."

Putting two and two together, she took a deep breath, placing the dead cigarette in the ashtray and not even bothering to light another one. "I'll ask again," she said slowly, "how urgent is this?"

He looked around, peeking between the tiny gap in the curtains to make sure no one was listening in before leaning across the table, his voice low, all that humor from his face gone. "There was an assassination attempt on a Senator," he explained.

"Ah," she replied, frowning, although her voice seemed quite matter-of-factly. "So, it's urgent, then?" She gave a nod, thinking to herself for another moment. "Meet me out the back of Arani's Bar in the red light district in two hours," she offered him. " _Don't_ bring anyone. My contact is a little skittish and he has a _lot_ of firepower, so I'd prefer if we didn't upset him."

* * *

"If not for our arranged meeting," he mused as she approached, eyeing her, "I wouldn't have recognized you. Well done."

"I'd hardly call throwing on a coat and some pants a disguise." Keeasi paused, taking her own turn to eye the Jedi now. "I guess you'll pass as an old friend." She pursed her lips together, giving a nod as she finally settled on things. "Guy I'm taking you to is an old smuggler, but not like the ones that bring in spice or whatever. He deals in exotic goods, the rare stuff, mostly. If your big old Jedi libraries don't know where that thing is from, he probably will."

She tilted her head for him to follow as they began walking along the back paths of the district. "And how did you meet such a charming gentleman?" He asked her.

"Not a client of my up front services, if that's what you're asking," she said, stepping over a pile of… well… whatever it was, it was liquified. "He knows me as an information trader. Helps him keep one step ahead of his competition."

"And I imagine your information about him keeps the Senate one step ahead, too," he said, shooting her a glance and a knowing smile.

He was right, of course. The main reason Keeasi was so willing to go out of her way for this guy was because she could feed all the information back to the Guard and the Senate. "He doesn't have to know about that," she laughed. "I plan on making it home alive today. What should I call you?"

"Ben," he replied, not missing a single beat. She shrugged. Maybe he wasn't entirely green, after all.

She came to a stop by the back of what looked like another club, a steel door closing it all off. She reached out, pressing a button and setting off a buzzer. There was a click, and then static from the speaker above it. "Staff only," the voice grumbled, almost inaudibly through the aged system.

"It's Keekee," she replied. "My friend and I have an early shift." She shot Obi-Wan a knowing look as the door's lock clicked free with another buzz. "This way," she said to him, her voice hushed as she opened the door, standing in the doorway to let him pass through first.

The two headed down a narrow steel corridor before Keeasi turned left, and all of a sudden they were in a room fit for a Hutt. The lighting was subdued, but the detailing of the rubs that covered the floors and walls was clear as day, regardless. There was a bench in the centre of the room, as though it were a secret store. In a way, it was. A place to buy the secret and stolen treasures that adorned the room, hidden from the general public. Behind the bench stood a Mon Calamari, a frown on his face. He was already less than pleased to see her company. "Keekee," he grumbled, palms on the bench, "you know how I feel about strangers."

"He's fine," Keeasi insisted, dismissively waving her hand. "Vebb, this is Ben. Old friend of mine from my days on Tatooine." She watched as the undercover Jedi nodded to Vebb politely before making his way to the bench and placing the dart base on it. "Was hoping you might have an idea where that's from."

Vebb's eyes were fixated on her for a moment, the tension in the air thick, but eventually he gave a grunt and relented, taking the small piece of metal in his hands and inspecting it. "Mmmph, yeah," he began, nodding as he held it up to the light. "I know where this came from. But that's valuable information, Keekee, and as you know, information is a commodity-"

"Southern loading docks, bay 8," she interrupted, her voice firm, "guy's coming through with a shipment from Nar Shadda tomorrow night. Exotic animals, artifacts, all the stuff you like. He's meant to auction it off with one of the Hutts, but if you were to greet him at the bay with a stack of credits and one of your best dancers from the bar, I'm sure he'd give you first pick. Especially if you tell him I sent you."

Vebb didn't even give himself a moment to think. "Fair call," he exhaled, nodding to Obi-Wan. "See the ridges here?" He asked, pointing carefully to the bulk of the dart-tip, waiting for Obi-Wan to squint and inspect it. "Kamino design. If the dart was in tact I'd be able to buy it off you for a decent amount. Those cloners are basically hermits these days, anything from Kamino is a collector's item."

"Cloners?" Keeasi repeated.

"Yeah," Vebb dropped it back into Obi-Wan's palm, "Kaminoan technology has always been advanced, but now they specialise in clones, genetic engineering, you know - correcting life's mistakes."

"Or repeating them," Obi-Wan added with a frown, inspecting the dart himself now.

Keeasi crossed her arms. "I've never heard of Kaminoans. Or Kamino, for that matter," she argued, a hint of distrust in her voice. If Vebb was trying to trick her, he was in for an _incredibly_ rude awakening.

But the dealer shrugged, not a hint of defensiveness to his stature. "Not surprised. It's beyond the Outer Rim, maybe… I don't know… somewhere in the Rishi Maze? Only people who've really heard of it are people in my line of work and… well… whoever needs a clone." He paused, watching Obi-Wan carefully, causing Keeasi to worry he'd recognized the Jedi. "Say, you aren't thinking of going there, are you?" He asked.

"Depends on if I can find it," Obi-Wan replied, pocketing the dart once more. "I may have to do some research."

"If you do," Vebb began, leaning forward, a surprising smile on his face, "let me know if you plan on bringing back any uh, souvenirs. Kaminoan technology sells well out this way. I'll give you a good cut!"

Obi-Wan gave a chuckle, glancing to Keeasi in a way that… well, she felt as though she had to look away. "I'll keep that in mind, my friend," he replied. "Thank you for your help."


	4. Chapter 4

"So you're going?" She asked as they walked back down the backstreet. "To Kamino?"

Obi-Wan tilted his head from left to right before giving a nod, "I should hope so." There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, as though it should have been obvious to her. "Granted I can find it."

She stopped walking. "Let me come with you."

He paused, turning to face her, confusion on his face. "What?" was all he could manage. Perhaps she didn't understand the gravity of what he was going there for.

"You said someone tried to assassinate a Senator," she explained, her voice hushed, "and I've… been noticing things. Hearing things."

Crossing his arms, his expression of confusion was unchanging. "What kind of things?"

"It might not sound like much to you," she began, "but it's been lots of small and odd things. Things going 'unnoticed' with no bribes paid, shipments coming in and going out for strange things, unregistered black market transport being hired for double the cost for confidentialities sake, communication signals coming from planets that I haven't even heard of." Keeasi paused, catching up with herself. "Over the last two or three years, it's all been adding up. As though someone in the Senate was turning a blind eye to things. And now that there's been an assassination attempt, and this weird thing from Kamino… this could be important. This could be something I need to pass on."

He listened, she could tell that much, and maybe he'd even considered it. But he shook his head, just as she'd imagined. "I must do this alone," he replied, "but I'll pass on whatever information I can to you." There was a silence momentarily before he spoke again. "And if you try to stow away again, I'll know." With that, she rolled her eyes, her shoulders dropping. She'd considered it.

"In that case, then," she announced with a sigh, "I should say goodbye. I live just outside the district and it's getting late, and I'm sure you have Jedi stuff to attend to."

The Jedi shook his head, stepping towards her. "Allow me to walk you home. It's the least I can do. Besides," he waited for her to begin walking before continuing on, walking by her side. "I'd be interested to know more about how you've spent the last ten years."

Keeasi tried her best to hide her smile at this, the fondness he seemed to put to his words was endearing. "I already told you most of it," she replied with a shrug. "What about you?" She asked. "Are there any spectacular Jedi stories you're allowed to tell me?"

By the time they arrived at her apartment, it was raining, and Keeasi had insisted that Obi-Wan come inside until the rain let up. He'd accepted, of course. He'd sensed she'd hesitated to ask, probably out of concern for propriety on his end. He was a Jedi and she was, as far as most knew, a working girl. Her concerns were understandable. Yet, Obi-Wan was determined to prove otherwise to her, the same way he had when he'd first met her. He couldn't quite put his finger on it when he was younger, but he'd sensed something in her that had been difficult to resist during their short time together. A kindness to her. Something bright and warm that was still there even after all this time, even if it had faded a little, and he'd matured enough to do a better job to resist it.

Her apartment was different to the Senate apartments that Obi-Wan was so used to seeing. It was small, probably only two rooms, but it was warm enough that he had to remove his cloak after a few minutes. "Sorry," Keeasi apologised from the kitchen, switching on the water-heating device, "you can take the girl out of Tatooine, but you can't take the Tatooine out of the girl. I can't sleep well unless it's warm."

"Don't apologise," he dismissed, folding his cloak over his arm before setting it over one of the two chairs by the very small table in her living area. "It's your home." He took a moment to look around once more. "Although you've certainly brought a Tatooine flavor to it, I will admit." Most of her furniture was warm colors, browns and reds and tans.

"Thanks," she laughed, "for someone who was so desperate to get off world, I really did miss it after a few years." She grabbed two mugs from a cupboard, moving to her pantry to rummage through it. "You ever been back?" She asked, her voice slightly muffled.

He took a seat, shaking his head. "To Tatooine? No. Although I've been hoping to be called back there one day. It would be good for Anakin. He misses his mother."

Triumphant, she returned from the depths of her pantry with a small jar of tea. "Of course he does," she began, moving back to the cups and preparing the drinks as the water finally began to boil. "How old was he when he left her? Ten?" She paused, frowning, "although, I suppose that… conflicts with your code, doesn't it?"

"It's more that it interferes," Obi-Wan explained as she finished with the teas, watching as she brought them to the table, placing one in front of him. "We seek to find a place of peace within. We cannot find that peace if we are troubled."

"Is that why the Jedi can't get married?" She asked. She waited for him to nod before continuing. "Isn't that hard?" She asked. "Not falling in love?"

He eyed his mug, his fingers settled on the sides of it. It took him a moment to think it over. "For some, I imagine it is." He shot her a smile suddenly, one that she'd learned meant he was about to take a friendly jab at her. "Is that a question you're often asked about your line of work?"

Keeasi couldn't help but laugh at this, nodding and setting her mug back down. "All the time. A lot of people seem to think I'm selling love. And I know it's a part of it, but… I suppose it's an unspoken rule, too. Don't fall in love."

"Ah, but you have freedom outside of work," he argued.

She shook her head. "It's not so much that as it is the secrets. I've been double-crossing people for Senators for so long that I've uh…" she tilted her head a little to the side, "I've learned to stop trusting people. I can't trust anyone with my real job. It's too dangerous."

"You trusted me."

Keeasi rolled her eyes once more, trying to withhold a grin. "You're a Jedi, it's a _little_ different. Technically," she mused, pausing to sip her tea, "we're on the same side. We both serve the Republic."

Obi-Wan gave a nod, eyeing her as she drank. "That we do. Do you report to any particular Senator?" he asked.

"Not really, it's more or less on an assignment basis, although there are specific Senators who contract my information services personally." She suddenly looked him in the eye, excitement in her eyes and a smile on her face. "Although, I'm well overdue a promotion _and_ I've been summoned to the Senate tower tomorrow, so who knows?"

He smiled at this. He may have even felt a little proud of her. He'd never admit to anyone, but given how he'd stood up for her to his Master, he felt somewhat responsible for her now. "Well, if you need a reference," said with a chuckle. Although he was hardly joking. She had, after all, fetched him some rather important information tonight.

"I'll keep that in mind," she replied, watching him take another sip of his tea. "What is this?" He asked, looking down into his cup after a moment.

"It's Alderaan Loose Leaf," she explained. "It's the kind my mother used to make for me as a child whenever I was upset."

His eyebrows raised in surprised. "You're from Alderaan, then?" He asked her.

"Yeah," she ran her fingers over the sides of her mug, feeling the warm texture against her skin. "Originally. My parents served house Organa. Guess I would have, too, if we'd stayed." She gave a shrug. "My mother died in an accident, though, and not long after that Dad and I got on a ship and went to Tatooine."

"Did he ever say why?" He asked. "Alderaan to Tatooine is…"

"A big jump?" She asked. "Yeah. I was pretty young at the time, but I can remember that Dad did something wrong. Not sure what, exactly, but it was enough for us to pack up and leave with no warning." She pursed her lips, giving an exhale. "The rest is history, really. A few months after he landed, he got sick, and before I knew it he was too sick to get out of bed."

Obi-Wan watched her intently. "You mentioned being a thief."

Keeasi nodded. "Yeah. Started small, just stealing food for me and Dad, pickpocketing and selling what I got. Then he passed and I got older and I started stripping trading ships while they were freshly docked, that kind of thing. Eventually, though, I uh… well, I found a job where the money was better." She laughed to herself. "What about your family?" She asked.

He sat his cup back down and Keeasi made a mental note that he seemed to be enjoying it. Maybe she'd buy more. Just in case. "I have no memory of them," he replied, a frankness in his voice for something that Keeasi thought would have been so emotional. "The Jedi recruit force-sensitive children as young as possible." He paused for a moment, thinking over something before a tiny, almost unnoticeable smile appeared in the corner of his mouth. "I was just over six months. I…" he chuckled to himself, "may have gotten curious once I was granted access to the records."

"And that was it?" She asked. "Nothing else to go off?" She watched as he shook his head. "Would you try to find them if you could?"

Obi-Wan stared into his tea for a moment, silence settling over the table as he thought the question over. "I try not to think about that possibility," he finally replied.

Keesi was unsure how to follow on after this. She was trying to make polite conversation yet had managed to turn things sombre. "Well, she finally breathed, her voice somewhat quiet, unsure of what she was about to say, "however you were brought up, you came out…" she trailed off, suddenly realising _what_ she was saying. To a _Jedi_ of all people. "...Good." Keeasi shifted in her seat, unsure of how he'd react, but to her relief he responded well, with a smile.

"Thank you," he chuckled.

* * *

Keeasi fidgeted with the cuffs of her dress uniform in the elevator. She hadn't wore it in over a year, sure, but she'd never been truly comfortable in it. Luckily for her, the Senate Tower was cool and airy, unlike the Guard barracks were. Still, she felt uncomfortable in restricted in it, and the cuffs always seemed to feel too tight on her wrist

She watched herself in the mirror of the elevator, trying to be subtle in front of the other few people who shared it with her. She looked so different when she was in uniform. Her dark hair was rolled up into a perfect bun, sitting underneath the line of her dress uniform cap, and her makeup was rather understated spare for the red lipstick. It looked as though she'd come from a different life, like she'd been from something else the whole time. Although Keeasi knew this uniform was hers, that she'd earned it, it still felt off to her. Like a costume. Like she was pretending. Maybe she was a little.

The elevator came to a stop, the doors opening and a familiar figure stepping inside. "Master Kenobi," Keeasi quietly acknowledged as he stepped into the elevator, giving him a singular nod.

He returned the nod, standing beside her and facing the doors. "Agent Teff." They shared a polite silence for the rest of the ride until eventually the doors opened on Keeasi's floor. To her surprise, Obi-Wan gestured his arm out, offering for her to exit first before he followed. "You may want to know that your meeting today is with Chancellor Palpatine," he spoke, his voice so low she strained to hear it at first.

"What?" She asked, shooting him a quick glance before regaining her composure. She was in the Senate tower. She had to remain professional, at least on the surface. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, I know it for a fact," he replied. He may not have been outwardly smiling, but his eyes were betraying him. "Seems that you're in line for quite the promotion." Keeasi sucked in a deep breath, her nerves suddenly resurfacing. A promotion from _the Chancellor?_ "Don't be nervous," he suddenly said, a smile finally escaping as they turned a corner into a more quiet hall. "You've already been approved."

Keeasi was lost for words, slowing her steps ever so much. "How do you know all this?" She asked, lowering her voice to a complete whisper. Even _she_ didn't know and she was an Intelligence Agent.

Obi-Wan gave another of his singular chuckles as they finally arrived by the double doors to where she had been summoned. He stopped, turning to face her, a knowing look in his eyes as he rose his arm and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Because I recommended you for it," he said giving her a smile and gently squeezing. He gave her a final nod as he let go and made his way back down the hall. Had he come here just to tell her this?

Keeasi put those thoughts aside as she stepped through the doors.


End file.
